Your Memories Haunt Me
by HearMeCalling
Summary: "Kurt," he said softly through his sobs. "Why, Kurt? WHY DAMMIT?" He banged his fist against the desk he was leaning against. I turned my back and walked away from the sight, my heart breaking again.  CHARACTER DEATH. Klaine fluff/some smut.
1. Chapter 1

**Your Memories Haunt Me**

I watched him quietly. He had his head in his hands and was sobbing softly into his palms. I could see shiny tears dripping from underneath his hands that traced down the contours of his perfect face. I wanted to cry with him, but I unfortunately could not. I was rooted in my spot, paralyzed because I couldn't take seeing him like this. He moved one hand from his face and reached out to grab a picture frame with a photo of two people in love in it. One was him, beaming his usual 100-watt smile and the other was... me.

"Kurt," he said softly through his sobs. "Why, Kurt? WHY DAMMIT?" He banged his fist against the desk he was leaning against.

I turned my back and walked away from the sight, my heart breaking again.

* * *

><p>He and I were the best of friends for what seemed like years, though in reality it was only about one year. Still, it didn't take me long to fall in love with him mostly because he was charming, talented, and very handsome. It took him a lot longer to fall for me, but when he did, my world opened up and the sun was finally allowed to shine on me. I could feel the warmth that I had been longing for forever. At least for eight years since the only real warmth I had in my life died. She was my mother. I love my father, but he was never as bright-shining as her. She was beautiful and sweet. When I found him, however, my world changed and I was happy.<p>

We were inseparable. We did everything together. He and I went to Kings Island for a weekend one summer with his parents and my family. Everyday he would kiss me at the very top of the Beast and told me he loved me as we plummeted down the large rollar-coaster hill. I loved him more than anything. He was the knight in shining armor I had dreamt about my whole life. Ever since I could remember I was always like Cinderella or Ariel, jaded of my old life and so desperately wanting a new one. When I found him, there he was... my new life. Everything that I wanted and more. I wasn't really sure how I found such an amazing guy for me.

One night we were laying in his dorm room at the Academy. I told my parents I was staying at Dalton because of the amount of homework I had to finish. He offered for me to stay in his room for that night and I of course gladly accepted. We had been dating for almost a month then. I knew I loved him because every time my eyes met his, it was like watching fireworks or singing opera. It was just _intense_.

"I love you," he said to me in that rich, gorgeous voice he had.

"I love you too," I replied back with a goofy grin on my face.

He traced his finger along my chest that was shirtless. I placed my hand on his own shirtless chest and stared at it, in awe at the sight of the contrasting colors: my hand was pure white against his tanned flesh. It was decorated with hairs, but I found it somewhat attractive. It would only be on him, though. No one else could pull of chest hair like he could. I bit my lip. He moved in and kissed me on my lips, his large palm connecting with the back of my neck. He in-twined his fingers into the hair back there and his thumb gently moved. I relaxed into his touch and his kiss. I moved the hand that was resting against his chest up to his shoulder where it then rested. Pretty soon I had crawled ontop of him and was making-out with him fiercely. He had his hands all over my body, rubbing circles on my back and rubbing my biceps over and over. Soon his hands were on my pants; I felt his fingers unbuttoning and unzipping them. Pretty soon they were tossed to the side and I was left in my heart-printed boxer-briefs. He smirked as he noticed my vicious and throbbing hard-on, but just kept continuing kissing me. I undid his pants for him and pretty soon we were both shirt-less and pants-less.

"Tell me when I go to far," he murmmered against my ear. I shuddered. Chill bumps ran up and down my arms and thighs. He slipped off the last remaning article of clothing I was wearing and I slipped off his. I took him in my hands and began to pump. He broke the kiss and hissed softly. He threw his head back and let me work. My mouth moved to his neck and kissed him deeply there, sucking and biting soflty until it was thoroughly red.

"Baby," he muttered softly. "I'm gonna..."

"Don't worry about it," I said. "Just let it happen."

He nodded and soon the liquid splattered onto my hand and stomach. He looked at me with precious hazel-golden eyes. "God," he said softly.

"My turn?" I said quietly, hoping to get my own satisfaction out of this. He nodded at me and slid underneath my body, making my eyes open wide. "Wait..."

"Just let it happen," he said with a wicked smirk and took me into his mouth and _Oh My God_ did it feel amazing. He sucked and sucked, hollowing out his mouth and licking the head of it. I moaned out his name over and over, sometimes grunting when his mouth took it all in. I came in his mouth and he swallowed it. _All of it. _He returned to his normal spot and I rested ontop of him. He laid his arms around me.

"How are you?" he asked.

"Great," I said with a yawn. It had been the first time he had given me oral-sex and it was just... amazing. "How are you?"

"Never been better. I'm perfect." He smiled and moved his hand up to my hair and stroked it. I shifted my weight so my whole body was no longer on him and moved to his side. I rested my head against his warm chest.

"You're amazing," I said.

"You're even more amazing," he replied.

* * *

><p>I woke up that morning laying on his chest. His hand had snaked around my waist somehow. I grinned and lifted up to meet his eyes which were fluttering open.<p>

"Goodmorning, sunshine," I said to him, kissing his lips softly.

"Goodmorning," he repeated, kissing me back and deepening the kiss. "Mm. You taste good even in the mornings."

I blushed at that. "You're just saying that. I probably have the worst morning breath ever."

"No. You really don't. Would I lie to you?" His eyes were illuminated by the sunlight filtering in from his flimsy white curtain over his window. I could see all of the colors in his irises; there were hints of green, gold, brown, and blue. How did one have such pretty eyes? I shook my head.

"If you did, I would hurt you." I chuckled softly and he followed suit.

"How did I ever find a guy like you?" he asked, mainly to himself.

"Well, I think I found you first. It took you a long time to find me."

"No. I always had you... I was just blind for awhile." He grinned a very toothy grin and I blushed like mad. For a guy who claimed that he wasn't good at romance, he was really good at romance. Maybe he just didn't think about it. Maybe it was just a gift that he didn't know he had. Either way, he could always make my heart soar, no matter what he said. He could say "you look like you were having gas pains" and my heart would still beat for him.

That morning we went out to the Westerville mall, and I picked out a fabulous outfit for him. All the while we held hands and didn't care about the judging looks being shot at us from the more conservative folk of Ohio. It didn't matter. I've always wanted a boyfriend to show off, no matter how many looks we attracted and how many bad names were thrown at us. I was blissfully happy and so was he. We had found each other's other halves.

I stayed the night once more and we went all the way, past third base and straight into home. It was awkward and a bit sloppy, but absolutely perfect. I was sure no one else's first time had ever been this great. I knew that I would always remember this. That morning I woke up before him and left him a note.

_Have I mentioned that you look hot even when you're asleep?_

_I love you. _

_-K_

I had to drive home to grab some clothes. All the while I was grinning from ear to ear, listening to a mix of Adele, Katy Perry, Michael Buble, and Lady Gaga. I wasn't really paying very close attention to the road I suppose because a drunk driver passed over into my lane and hit my car head-on.

I just remember everything going black.

And it stayed that way.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Okay! Hopefully this will be a multi-chapter fic. Just to let you know, I'm AWFUL at updating. I get really lazy and I loose my muse. Though reviews keep me strong, so if I get a lot of reviews and such, I will continue this for awhile. It just depends, however.**

**This is going to be a VERY sad fic and can often be very haunting. **

**Also, you may have noticed I don't place the name of the other character along with the narrator in there. It's probably not a secret, but his name probably won't be mentioned at all. Neither will the narrators, really, but I wanted to make his identity more known. If you don't like it this way, tell me. **

**Like I said before, REVIEWS ARE LOVED. If I don't get a lot of reviews, I'm not continuing this. :/ **

**Also CRITIQUES are loved. Some honest-to-God critiquing would be nice. Critiquing is not: "." **

**Please give suggestions on other chapters, songs that may fit, etc. :] Thank you!**

**NOTE! THIS STORY IS UN-BETA'd. IT MAY HAVE MISTAKES. I APOLOGIZE.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

I honestly don't remember much about the funeral. I remembered my dad sobbing for hours as the funeral home director spoke on my behalf. He spoke about "heaven" and how I was in this wonderful place. I wanted with a wry, mocking expression. How was this heaven? I was sitting in the funeral home watching my own funeral, not understanding how I hadn't passed on.

I turned my head to see Carole, my father, and Finn sitting in a pew. My aunt was on the other side of my dad and my uncle sat next to Finn. My dad silently sobbed next to Carole who had a tear-stained face, rubbing circles into my father's back. Finn had his head down and would occasionally wipe his eyes roughly, sniffing often. Behind them sat Blaine with his parents, Blaine sobbing uncontrollably into a tissue. His mother had her arm drooped around his shoulders. She looked just as sullen as everyone else did.

I turned around to see all of the Warblers and all of the New Directions sitting together. Wes and David were looking at Blaine from where they sat. Mercedes was sobbing with her head against Quinn's shoulder who in turn was also crying. The boys all had tears present in their eyes, even Puck. There were also people I didn't know in the back. I guessed they were just constant funeral go-ers, people who came to funerals to offer their condolences for the dead's family.

I walked over to Blaine and sat next to him. I laid my head against his shoulder, wishing so much that he could see him and that I could comfort him.

"I love you so much," I choked out, tears beginning to form. "So, so much."

Blaine shuddered and I thought he could feel me. I put my hand on his face, mustering as much strength as I could to be able to touch his skin. He looked upwards for a moment and touched his face.

"Blaine!" I exclaimed.

"What's wrong dear?" asked his mother. I watched her expression. She looked worried.

"N-n-nothing," he said, dropping his hand. I dropped mine as well.

"Blaine! I'm here! Can't you hear me?" I shrieked this. I knew the answer to that question: no. I was dead, I was a ghost, and I could not give him the comfort that he needed. I loved him. How could this happen? What sort of cruel fate took one from another? He needed me. I couldn't be there for him. I cried to myself. "Why can't you hear me?" I said softly.

I sat next to Blaine the entire funeral. When it was over, he, Finn, Puck, and my father helped take the casket out into the hearse. I ran out to watch this scene. Blaine had one hand on a handle, his face scrunched up and his tears pouring over and down his cheeks. I grabbed the casket with both of my hands. I realized how difficult this was because I had to use all of my strength to do this. If I didn't put any effort, my hands would slip right through. I hated being only an entity and no longer a person. My body had died but now I was this soul, empty and alone.

* * *

><p>I watched Blaine constantly. He tried to live his life, but I could tell how broken he was. Every night he would grip the picture of us and cry himself to sleep. In turn I would cry along with him. I would lie next to him and tell him how much I loved him. I would whisper it to him all night in hopes that he would hear me. He never could, nor would he ever.<p>

"Kurt," he moaned in his sleep.

"Yes, yes... I'm here," I would say to him, my arms covering him.

"Kurt."

"Yes?"

He rolled over and I could see his face perfectly. We were so close. I could remember being this close to him. I could remember all of the times we had. Instantly the first time we kissed popped into my head. The sheer perfection of that moment loved to play over and over in my head. The first time was made love was soon after that memory. I was always more of a romantic person, so that first kiss was always my favorite memory.

His eyes fluttered in his sleep. I smiled softly, placing a kiss on top of his head.

"I love you," I said softly, brushing my fingers against the tips of his hairline. I had to use my strength to feel his forehead which was smooth. I moved my hand down and touched his cheek. His eyes suddenly flew open then and he jerked up into a sitting position. My metaphorical heart skipped a beat. If I wasn't already dead I would've had a heart attack. He was gasping for breath.

"Oh my God," he said softly, laying back down. He was slowly catching his breath. I wondered if that was my fault.

"Blaine?" I asked softly.

He didn't hear me. He placed a hand against his sweaty forehead and sighed, exhaling deeply. He turned over again and we were face-to-face. I blinked, wondering if he could see me. No, of course not. He reached out his hand and placed it where my chest was. I looked down and his hand was lying in between my ribs. I gasped.

"You should be here, Kurt," he said softly. "I hope it's nice where you are." His eyes shut gently and his breathing slowed.

"To answer that question, no. It's torture. At least I always get to see you..." I kissed his forehead again and left him.

I returned to my house to find Carole and my father talking.

"What are we going to do? How are we ever going to get through this?" He held his head in his hands.

"For now we just need to keep living. It's all we can do..." She placed her head against his and kissed his bald head.

"I don't know how to do this again, Carole," he said quietly. "First his mother and now..."

She nodded. "I know."

I turned away from them. I couldn't watch this scene any longer. I walked up to my bedroom which was left the same way. I walked over to my bed and grabbed the stuffed teddy bear Blaine won for me at a carnival long ago. I closed my eyes slowly, sinking into my bed.

* * *

><p>"Kurt!" called Blaine from way in front of me. I saw him waving his hands and smiling. I would recognize that smile and gelled-hair combo anywhere. I ran towards him and linked our hands together.<p>

"Hey," I said softly as he kissed me on my lips. People watched, but I shrugged it off. "Where to next?"

Blaine pointed upwards towards the giant Ferris wheel that illuminated most of the fair with its flashing, colorful lights that blinked rainbow colors. I thought I had never seen anything more beautiful and then I turned to see Blaine grinning his winning smile at me and I knew that was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. We were beautiful together.

"Come on!" He laughed and pulled my hand towards the Ferris wheel. I ran with him and we wound up in a rather small line. We stood there, huddling in our coats because it was only about 40 degrees. He put our hands in his enormous jacket pocket. I leaned into him and we just stood there together, not really talking. I looked at him. His tanned cheeks were tinted pink because of the sharp late-fall air. When we got to the front of the line, the teenage boy who had a horrible complexion and an even worse fashion sense ushered us into a car. He sort of scoffed at the fact that we were holding hands, but I didn't really care. Anyone with a look like that could kiss my ass.

When we were in the car together, Blaine leaned his head against my shoulder.

"I'm so happy right now," he said. "You make me happy, Kurt."

I blushed and grinned. "Really? I do? You're not just saying that?"

"Of course not." He rose up to look at me eye-to-eye. "Why would I 'just say that'?"

"I don't know. I guess I'm just kind of in shock. This is too perfect. Things like this don't happen to people like me."

Blaine laughed softly. "I'm glad you think that it's perfect."

I watched him. It was my turn to rest my head against his shoulder. He laid his head on top of mine and we just sat there. Soon the car moved and the Ferris wheel ascended into the air. I jerked up to look outside of the window. It showed an amazing view of Westerville; the city lights twinkled as we moved upwards.

"Wow," I breathed. "It's amazing."

"Yeah. You are." Blaine was looking at me. I turned to look at him. My heart swelled and I lunged forward, kissing his fiercely. We moved in time with one another, uncaring of the sights out of the car. When we broke for breath, we laid our foreheads together. I could feel his hot, ragged breath against my face.

I let out a breathy laugh. "There aren't any words," I whispered.

"How about 'I love you'?" Blaine offered.

"I love you. So much." I wrapped my arms around his neck.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hi guys! I'm so happy that I got several reviews. Umm... yeah... this is pretty much my first multi-chaptered Klaine fiction. I hope it doesn't suck too much. I have ADD so my brain is sort of all over the place. Sometimes I have difficulty keeping things straight and in order, ya know? ^^" If you have this issue, you understand my story. ^^" Anyways! Thank you so much for reading this.**

**PLEASE REVIEW! and PLEASE CRITIQUE!**

**Oh and, like last chapter, this is un-beta'd. If you want to beta, PM me :3 I'll send you my e-mail.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Days passed. Weeks passed. Blaine sat on his bedroom's porch, looking out over all of Westerville. I remembered countless occasions where we sat on his porch and talked; sometimes we would sip green tea and sometimes I would sit in his lap and make out with him. More so than never, we just relaxed together on the wooden lawn chairs.

Today Blaine wore a blue polo with khaki shorts and a pair of Sperry Top-Siders. It was a beautiful spring day with the sun gently caressing the Earth below. I wished I could feel the sun on my skin like I once could, but I could only feel the remnants of the sun's warmth from memories. I could only imagine warmth of sun beams, but I could not feel them.

Blaine sat contently, looking a bit sullen. This was really not that unusual, though. It was depressing because I haven't seen his smile since I...

Katy Perry's _Teenage Dream _interrupted my musings. It filled the space with its upbeat pop melody. Blaine pulled his iPhone out of his pocket and placed it against his ear.

"Hey," he said into the receiver. I listened closely, trying to hear who was on the other line. I recognized the soft, boyish voice. It was Finn.

"Hey, man," said Finn. "We're doing a little bit of cleaning and stuff. We found something you might want to see. Thought I would call and tell you."

Blaine nodded against the phone and ran his fingers through his glossy, unmanaged curls.

"Sure, yeah. I'll be there in a bit." Blaine pushed "end" on his phone and placed it back into his pocket. He walked back into his adjacent room and grabbed his keys and wallet. Afterwards he walked down his stairs and out to his bright red Mustang which gleamed in the now setting sun. I follow him into the car, not bothering to open the door of course. I could travel anywhere without the use of doors nowadays. I watched him as he turned the keys in the ignition and started up the car, backing out of his massive driveway and onto the highway.

He drove the rather long distance from his house to mine, and, two hours later, we made it to the house I knew and grew to love. We got out of the car and I looked at it all, noticing how the sun beams went between the now-budding trees. It was a beautiful sight. I wondered why I had taken it granted before. Then again, I took for granted hugs and kisses. At least I could still see the trees and the sun, but I could never feel the warmth from a hug or kiss. Even though I saw Blaine daily and watched him every change I got before I had to rest, I was never satisfied. Seeing him was not enough. I could touch his face, but I could never truly feel the sweaty brow or the body heat that I knew so well.

Blaine walked to the front door and knocked. Apparently they had been waiting on him because my father greeted him in the doorway with a crumpled look on his face. Seeing Blaine brought back memories of me_, us_. It hurt my father to know that we could never be again. He liked Blaine. He had actually told me that he was proud of me to have found someone like him who would treat me better than any other guy could.

"Hey, Blaine," said my father softly. Blaine nodded in return, suddenly being hugged by my dad. Blaine returned the hug (a traditional, large-pat-on-the-back "guy" hug) with a face that told me he was holding back tears. Like my father seeing Blaine, Blaine could see me in my father. I tore my eyes away, feeling like a peeping Tom on a rather private moment. Still, I should've been there, in person instead of being like a wisp of wind in the air, something unseeable and something untouchable. My chest hurt. A gaping hole was present where my heart should be. I could feel the sorrow in that moment ripping me to shreds.

I turned back to them, seeing them return into the house and shutting the door. I slid past the wooden blockade and followed Blaine and my step-mother up the stairs and into my room which was now being sorted into boxes. I wondered why exactly they wanted to get rid of my things, but then I realized they were only getting rid of old junk I had in my closet like plastic tiaras from the dollar store or a pair of jeans I had in 8th grade.

"What are you doing here?" asked Blaine to Carole, his face a bit perplexed and worried.

"We're just moving old stuff of Kurt's into the garage. Burt figured it was best if we had this room free in case of company, yet he couldn't pack up everything." Carole glanced around the room with a tortured expression. I noticed tears in the corner of her eyes. "Finn has the box," she said softly, sniffing. "I'll get him."

Carole then proceeded to walk out and find my step-brother. Blaine moved himself to the bed and sat down, the plush of the sheets gathering around him. He looked around the room once and inhale a great deal. He grabbed a white pillow of mine and held it to his face, closing his eyes. A tear fell silently onto the pillow case. I gulped. I didn't understand why I put myself through sheer torture, but I had to. I had to watch him. I had to make sure he hadn't forgotten about me.

I sat down beside him and placed my head against his shoulder, as per usual when he was feeling bad. Of course he couldn't tell.

"There, there," I muttered to him. "I love you... don't cry..." I sniffed myself, but as an entity, you never actually have tears running down your face, you just have the memories of those tears, how they felt, and what brought them on. I was crying, but not in the literal sense. "Not over me..." I whispered this, my voice breaking. That was the moment when Finn came in, holding my box decorated in rine stones and pictures of friend and myself. A large picture with Blaine and I sat in the middle, covered with a heart border. I realized how silly it might look to Blaine and was embarrassed. The items in the box, though, were probably more so embarrassing that the actual lid.

"Here," Finn said, his head hung. "Though you might want this."

Blaine took the box. The box was actually the shoe box from my signature par of Dr. Martens leather lace-up boots that I wore often and went well with nearly every outfit I wore. When Blaine opened it, pictures and mementos filled it as well as my 7 diaries from ages 7 to 10.

"Thank you, Finn," said Blaine softly, looking up at my step brother with those big, honey-colored eyes I adored.

"I'll give you some time."

Finn left Blaine alone in my bedroom to browse through my treasures. I watched in horror as Blaine read one of my love notes to him I hadn't sent.

_Dear Blaine,_

_This may sound silly, but you have to know this, okay? Please don't laugh. I could not stand it if you laughed. I'm pouring my heart out here._

_First of all, I love the way your eyes sparkle when you announce to me a song choice for a glee club competition. Sometimes I believe you are more enthusiastic than me when it comes to music. _

_Then I think that would be impossible, so I laugh. No one is more enthused about music as I. But you are a very close second. At least a close third since I'm sure Rachel Berry is pretty much tied._

_Second of all, I love that you are shorter than me. By an inch, I know, we've discussed this. However, I love it because you usually rest your head on my shoulder instead of it being the opposite. I also love that I have to tilt my face downwards to kiss you. Yes, it's only slight, but I love it. Maybe I really do have male pride somewhere deep within. Though, it may just because I think it's incredibly adorable. I doubt I have any sort of male pride in me. _

_Third of all, I love that you are so close to my family. Finn adores you. I'll admit, I get jealous when he understands what you're talking about with football and the like (though I did play for awhile, but I was only a kicker and really didn't know anything about the waste of time you call a 'sport'). Your eyes are sparkly when you talk about that as well. You're a man of many talents, Blaine. Or, in this case, obsessions. _

_And lastly, I love that you are mine. All mine. If you cheated on me, I would seriously have to cry, punch you in the face, cry some more, then punch your partner-in-crime's face. There would be a lot of tears, Blaine Anderson. A lot. More than my usual amount which is saying something. I love you, Blaine. I hope you never leave me. I hope we stay together forever and forever and forever. Oh, wow. How that sounded like a 7th grade nitty of a girl... I'm so sorry. _

_But I do love you. More than my Dr. Martens, more than my Marc Jacobs fall line, more than Patti Lupone's music, more than the Wicked soundtrack, more than my tiara collection, more than my Navigator, more than my stuffed bear, more than tofu and chicken, more than the occasional slice of pizza after weeks of dieting, and more than, probably, life itself. Never forget that, Mr. Anderson. Even if I'm dead and gone, I'd love you more than anything. I'm bound to you. _

_Forever. _

_You can try getting rid of me, but it won't work. I'll hold on like vice. Trust me._

_Love you more than words could ever express (sorry for that trite expression... but it had to be said), _

_Kurt E. Hummel._

_PS: If you were laughing through this entire note, I will... I dunno. Do something. Trust me. I'll find out. _

Blaine was sobbing after reading this. He laid the note down because his tears were causing the red ink I had written it in to smear and turn pink. This was not what I had wanted at all while he read it.

"Oh my God," he had said after reading the lines "_Even if I'm dead and gone, I'd love you more than anything._" The irony of that statement cut me in half. I had almost forgotten that I had written such a thing. I found myself now extremely angry at the fact this tragedy happened. I wanted to throw something.

"Blaine!" I screamed, knowing he couldn't hear me. "I'm still here! I'm here, Blaine!"

I stood to my feet as he sobbing, hands over his face. I picked up a glass paper-weight that I had bought at some flea market because it was sparkly and caught the light beautiful and threw it as hard as possible against the wall. Blaine jerked to attention, getting to his feet. He looked at the glass that was shattered against the floor. I slid down the side of the wall, exhausted from that strenuous activity, watching Blaine.

"I'm here," I cried out weakly. "Can't you tell?"

Blaine's face turned from crumpled to horror and rushed out of the room. I wanted to follow him, but I could barely move. Throwing that had taken a lot of energy just like following Blaine around did. I whimpered there for a moment until I heard footfalls coming towards my room.

"What the hell happened?" asked my father as Blaine and him came bustling into the room.

"I-I don't know! I was sitting on the bed reading this-" he shoved the love letter in my dad's face "-and all of a sudden that paper weight flew through the air and hit that wall."

Dad just sort of looked at him like he had lobsters coming out of his ears and walked towards the pile of glass on the floor.

"How?"

"I dunno! I was just sitting on the bed, I swear. I didn't touch a thing." Blaine now sounded generally scared. "I can't explain it, Mr. Hummel. I'm sorry if it sounds crazy."

My father looked taken aback. He ran his hand over his face. "Son, I think you need to go home and rest. I understand how... tragedy can cause people to imagine things. Do you want me to drive you home? I can bring your car to you tomorrow."

"Yeah... yeah... I should go home," Blaine said after awhile, trying to process all of this. "I can drive, though. Thank you."

Before he left, Blaine grabbed my box and left the house. My father watched before walking over to the pile of glass with a confused expression on his face. He shook his head and walked out of my room. I couldn't believe that they both had written it off as some sort of imaginary happening where Blaine had thrown it, but didn't really remember doing so. It was now all my fault that Blaine was thought of as mentally unstable due to my death. I laughed wryly. It just wasn't fair. None of this was fair. I screamed, unleashing all of anger and frustration. The end of the scream ended in a sob as I dry heaved over and over.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Oh hey! Longer chapter than usual! COOL.**

**Thank you guys for your comments! I'm sorry I'm making you cry... but it's a tragedy, so that's probably a good thing. :] I hope one day this story will be tumblr famous like Swing Sets and Sandboxes, as well as Dalton ... though, of course, Dalton has it's own fanbase so it won't be AS Tumblr popular. ^^" Still. MY DREAM. **

**Please, please, please, please, PLEASSSSEEEE keep reviewing. I mean, it makes me fired up to write more! Oh! BTW! I've decided to write at least 5 chapters to this fic. At least. Maybe more, maybe less, but I still have school and I have another fic idea that I will have to work on as well. I may write 10, but we will see where this story goes.**

**Also if you like it, I do ask that you, like, recommend it to other people (like I said, Tumblr famous. I will know if this fic is Tumblr famous). I would love you forever and ever.**

**And ARTS! If you draw and stuff, I would love to see arts!**

**(I have this crazy dream, okay? I would love to see a picture of Blaine and Kurt together or something. The next chapter has a seriously dapper!Blaine scene in it. You'll see what I mean when I publish it. :] For now it's stored on my iPod's notepad...)**

**This may be rambling and I would not be heartbroken if you didn't read this, but it seems that I am never the one to get special things. I love special things. I see other people getting special things and then I'm like "I CAN HAS?" and they're like "NO YOU CANNOT HAS." And then my heart breaks slowly... ^^" **

**That's a bit of me being odd and overly dramatic but still. :] Drama kid. Can't help that.**

**I CAN HAS REVIEWS, YES?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"So! I heard that Jersey Boys was showing at Lima Theater. Wanna join me?" Blaine waved two tickets to the Jersey Boys in his hand, grinning from ear to ear. He knew how much I had wanted to see that show. Being a Musical Theater know-it-all as myself, I knew most everything there was to know about Jersey Boys, including the original cast, the plot, and the musical numbers. I clapped my hands together in excitement.

"Of course!" I said happily. "I would be honored to escort you, Mister Anderson! When is it?" I took his hand in mine as we walked down the hallways of Dalton Academy. Passersby greeted us kindly and I smiled at them, loving how it really didn't matter that two guys such as ourselves were holdings hands. People supported us. It was simply amazing and refreshing, among many great adjectives I could've used.

"Friday night at 8 o' clock. We'll have a great time. I've already made dinner reservations for two beforehand."

"Really? Breadstixs I assume?" I asked, knowing that it was probably the answer. It was one of the two affordable sit-down restaurants in Lima. The others were pretty high-end and were about forty-dollars for a piece of fish and a drizzle of honey-glaze.

"Nope. Better. Belle Luna. I know how much you like French food so..."

"Blaine!" I gasped. Belle Luna had one of the highest price-tags in all of Lima. I could not have my boyfriend pay that much for me, especially when I couldn't pay him back. I knew he was rich (most everyone here at Dalton were) but I really did not want to take his money. "You didn't! I can't pay you back if we go there!"

"Who says you would have to pay me back? Also, I wouldn't let you. That's way against the boyfriend code. Just let me treat you. The most I treat you to is coffee and even then you pay me back even after I insist that you not. Do this. For me." He flashed those honey-almond eyes at me and I simply melted inside. I groaned and said a very, very reluctant "fine". He grinned at me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I blushed and looked away. What that boy did to me is just insanity, getting me worked up over something and then having me agree whenever big, beautiful, smoldering eyes gaze deep within your soul and make you melt. I was literally putty in Blaine's hands and how he knew it.

"But I'm paying for the popcorn. Don't you dare tell me otherwise Blaine Anderson, or I'm not going." I crossed my arms at him and he nodded.

"Whatever you want, sweetheart. I'm just glad you're going with me."

"When did you learn romance? I thought you said you were bad at it." I begged to differ when he told me that because Blaine was good at everything. I knew not of one thing he was bad at or, at least, remotely not decent at.

"Romance for Dummies." He laughed at his little joke. I just nodded. It really wasn't that funny. If anything, he was a cornball which was hardly a flaw. I had to try harder.

"Ah."

"Just kidding! I asked Rachel." He took my hand again. We were finally outside of our last class for the day, which we had together (class sizes were small at Dalton since it was a private school, so most everyone had class together in every subject). "She knows a lot about romance. I'm thinking she reads too many Nora Roberts novels." He pursed his lips at that thought. I nodded and chuckled softly.

"No doubt."

We walked into class at that moment and found our seats. The teacher smiled at began his lecture. I looked to Blaine who was sitting a few seats across from me and smiled. He grinned back. I was so in love with him that it hurt my heart. I was just glad I was finally his.

* * *

><p>Friday evening rolled around and Blaine's red Mustang pulled into my driveway right at 5 o'clock. He crawled out of his car in a pin-striped navy suit with a pair of white patent leather loafers. He wore his curls loose and un-gelled, falling against the tops of his ears gently and the tops of his sun glasses which were pink Ray Bans. The sun was just now setting, so he slid them off slowly and smiled as he saw me, standing there.<p>

He looked, in one word, amazing. My jaw dropped to the floor. I didn't know he could clean up like that (he was always very dapper, but this was really top-notch). I looked down at my outfit and cursed myself. It wasn't anything extremely special, just my typical attire. I had on a pair of white skinny jeans, a pair of Doc Martens ankle-high boots, and a navy-and-white striped shirt that was tight against my skin. A white-and-navy fedora topped the look. It was funny, our outfits matched almost perfectly and we hadn't planned it. I felt incredibly under-dressed.

"Wow," I said. "I feel extremely under dressed. Should I go back and get changed?"

"No," said Blaine, coming closer. "I love it. So!" Blaine posed a little bit, like the goofball he is. "Is my outfit Kurt approved?"

"Yes. Hell yes," I responded, my eyes wide as I watched him. I couldn't get over how great he looked.

"Good. GQ magazine. I bought this outfit on the Armani website. It seemed Kurt approved. I asked Mercedes."

"You asked Mercedes about your outfit?" I laughed softly.

"One had to look perfect for you, my love. Now! We shall depart." He leaned forward and kissed my lips. "My manners. Sorry. Good evening, Kurt."

"G-good evening, Blaine." I hated myself for stuttering, but he literally turned my insides into mush. We walked to his Mustang and he politely opened the car door for me. I blushed like mad, thinking about how classic that was. "And here I thought chivalry was dead." He looked at me.

"Not with me, baby." He flashed a toothy grin my way and I rolled my eyes, though I couldn't help but smile. Sometimes he was so charming it was annoying. Then, though, I think about how stupid I was to think that and remember that I had a crush on Finn a long time ago. I had really stepped up my tastes. Blaine was just perfect. If I had dated Finn, there would be none of the mushy stuff. Thank God I decided to finally crush on a gay man.

"Where did you find pink Ray Bans?" I asked him as he slid the sunglasses back on since the sun was still bright in his eyes.

"Sunglass Hut in the mall. You like?"

"I love." He responded with a laugh.

We arrived at the restaurant and ate rather leisurely, since we had a few hours until the show started. The restaurant was exquisite: fine dining, elaborate decor, and a very dashing waiter whom Blaine was a tad jealous of.

"Do you think he looks better than me?" Blaine grumbled when our waiter walked off, carrying our menus.

"Of course not! Why would you ask me that?"

"Because. He's so... dashing."

I just laughed at him because he was being ridiculous. When 7 o' clock rolled around, we climbed back into Blaine's car and drove to the theater. People were already starting to pile into building, one after another. Blaine and I walked into together, holding hands as we walked in time with the crowd. There was a surprising lot, though it was the Broadway tour of Jersey Boys. It was bound to be amazing.

"We have great seats, Kurt," said Blaine. "In the dead middle, three rows down."

"Wow! That's amazing!"

"I've been planning this date for awhile. The seats had to be perfect." He grinned at me.

"For someone who claims to be terrible at romance, you sure are romantic. I think you underestimate yourself." I kissed his cheek softly. We were led into the theater by an attendant. We found out seats and sat down, the cushions giving way for our weights. I sighed softly, enjoying the soft lighting and Blaine next to me.

"Are you excited?" he asked me.

"Very."

We waited for a while, talking about some new books we've read recently. He talked animatedly about one in particular, though I barely listened. I was all too anxious for the show to start. When it did, our conversation died abruptly as the actors came on stage.

Throughout the show, my mouth stayed open. The lights, the music... everything was mind-blowing. It was amazing. I had wished I could be up on that stage with them. When the show ended, I jumped to my feet, clapping as excitedly as I possibly could. People around me did the same, rising to their feet and some giving loud "whoops" to show they enjoyed it.

Blaine and I walked out together, our fingers interlocked.

"That was great!" I told him. "I can't believe I just saw that. Excellent."

"This evening has been great," replied Blaine. "Thank you for coming with me."

"Shut up," I said softly. "Don't thank me. I should be thanking you. You were a complete gentleman tonight." I grinned at him and kissed his cheek softly. His eyes fluttered up to mine and my heart stopped.

"Want to come back to my house?" he asked.

"Yes. Let me call my dad. I'll tell him that I'm staying with Mercedes and that you dropped me off."

I called my father and told him my little lie. After I had, Blaine drove me back to his house, breaking the speed limit every once in a while before I yelled at him to slow down. When we reached the house, he pulled me inside and began to kiss me fiercely.

"Blaine! Are your parents home?" I asked him.

"No, of course not. They're never home. Mom is away at work and so is my dad. Don't worry." His mouth moved to my neck and my eyes fell shut, my breathing becoming increasingly faster. His tongue glided over my skin gently. I sighed as he did so, his mouth sending bolts of electricity downwards.

"Come on..." Blaine flashed me a look that made me gasp. He looked... fierce. His honey-almond eyes looked at me with lust. He took my wrist and drug me up the stairs and into his bedroom.

* * *

><p>"...come on..." Blaine said to me.<p>

Blaine looked up from my journal. He sighed heavily and laid back on his bed, looking up at his ceiling. I laid down beside him slowly and draped my arms over his lean chest.

* * *

><p><strong> AN: I hope you liked that fluff. This story needed a little bit of fluff. I'm sorry if this chapter sucked. It sounded much better in my head I guess... please tell me if you liked it. Don't lie if you didn't. I can take it, trust me : P**

**One of my favorite Klaine artists drew the outfits Kurt and Blaine are wearing in this chapter. If you would like to see them, go to deviantart, find the artist "~yu-oka" and look for a drawing titled "Klaine outfit request" (or something like that). She's my favorite Klaine artist of all time. I would like to give a shoutout to her! Thank you, sweet cheeks! : D**

**Please, please, PLEASE review. If you like this story, please recommend it to people.**

**This is really my first multi-chaptered story I've kept up with. So. Yeah. I would really love some reviews :3**

**Check out my friend's fic "Our Last Summer". It's a Klaine fanfic by pukaroxliza! It's sooo good. She's nice enough to give me shoutouts in her story, so here's mine for her! Love yah! :3**

**Thank you guys for reading! More to come soon**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Blaine... How have you been?" Wes and David stood infront of Blaine. Blaine's gaze didn't match their eyes. He stared at the crests on their blazers absentmindedly.

"Fine," he mumbled almost incoherently. He attempted to shove through them, but Wes held him back, their height difference giving Wes the upperhand.

"No. You haven't. We're worried about you. You haven't been to practice, you haven't eaten lately, and you never sleep well. You have bags under your eyes and you're only 17. Don't you understand, Blaine? You're destroying yourself." David and Wes exchanged worried looks. Blaine just sighed, deflated. They walked over to a nearby table and took their seats. Blaine slouched over in his chair, not bothering to sit up. He was too tired.

"I'm sorry." Blaine watched his thumbs as the twiddled on the wooden table top. "I just... I don't know what to do anymore."

"Listen," said David. "You know we're here for you, right? You're not alone."

"It feels like it." Blaine's voice hardly carried over to the boys, but they heard it.

"Of course, but you have to live your life. Kurt would want that. He would want you to move on."

I stood there, watching this conversation. What did I want for Blaine? I wasn't sure. Did I want him to move on while I was still there, still watching? I wasn't sure. I wanted him to be happy, I knew that for sure. But I was selfish; I wanted him to be happy with me.

"Do you really think so...?"

"Yes. I do."

Wes nodded in agreement with David. They stood up and walked over to Blaine, patting his back simultaneously.

"We have to get to class. I'll tell them that you're not feeling well. Go back to your house or something," Wes said softly to his friend. Blaine nodded and stood to his feet. He walked out to the parking lot of Dalton and to his red Mustang which wasn't as gleaming as I remembered the first time I had saw it on our date which seemed so long ago. I walked with him and sat in the passenger seat. He snapped his seatbelt in the lock and turned the ignition. He pulled out and was soon on his way home which was only about 10 minutes away.

The radio played softly, the song being... Oh My God. _Teenage Dream_. He turned off of the radio quickly. I looked at him. He wore a tortured look on his beautiful face. He kept driving. I could tell he was about to break down, but he held it in until he pulled into the driveway of his home. He got out of his car and went into his house. As soon as he shut the front door, he slid down the wood and sat on the floor, burrying his face in his knees.

"Blaine..." I murmered to him.

"Huh?" he said softly. Oh God... did I say that so he could hear it? I wasn't sure. I couldn't tell.

"Blaine, I'm here."

"I'm hearing things." He got to his feet and looked around. I started to panic. He looked scared. Why was I scaring him? I was just talking to him like usual. Most of the time, he couldn't hear me.

"Blaine!" I said to him, touching his arm. He jumped away from my touch.

"Oh my God." He fled up the stairs and into his room. I followed as fast as I could, but he had slammed the door in my face. I was in shock. How could this happen? This had never happened. It normally took a lot of my strength to touch someone. Throwing a glass paperweight took all of my energy. I had to rest after that. Now I could touch Blaine and I didn't have to expend any energy. What was going on? Was I getting stronger?

"Blaine!" I went through the door to find Blaine in his large bathroom. He was staring at himself in the mirror. He splashed water over his face.

"I'm going crazy," he muttered to himself.

"No you're not..." I whispered. "I'm here Blaine." I choked back a sob. He would never believe me. He would continue to think he was crazy. Of course he would. I would too if I heard Blaine's voice if the roles were reversed. I didn't believe in ghosts before. Now, I was stuck to Blaine. I had to always be with him. I wasn't sure why, but I was haunting him. There was a few times when I could break away, but not for long. I had to always return to Blaine, and I wasn't sure why.

He looked around frantically, his hands clutching at his tousled curls. His face was crumpled. I had never seen him like this.

"Kurt...?" he said softly. "Kurt?"

"Yes...?" I said.

He shook his head then walked through me and into his room, grabbing his phone. He dialed a number.

"Mercedes. Hey. Yeah, everything's okay. What's Tina's number?" Blaine grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil and wrote down Tina's number quickly. "Thank you." He hung up and then dialed the number on the paper. The phone rang multiple times before I could hear a voice on the other end.

_"Hello?" _said Tina's garbled voice from the other line.

"Tina. It's Blaine. Can you meet me at the Lima Bean in about 1 hour? I have a favor to ask." He tapped the pencil against his knee nervously. He waited for her reply.

_"What, exactly?" _

"I'll ask you when we get there." Blaine and Tina hung up. He tossed off his clothes, only keeping on his blue Abercrombie boxers. He was so beautiful. I wanted to reach out and feel him, but I couldn't. I couldn't freak him out more since I couldn't control what I did anymore. I didn't understand. I had to keep my distance, though I had to follow him. I had to see why he was contacting Tina. He threw on a T-shirt and some dark-wash jeans. On his way out of the door, he slid on his loafers. He walked back out to his Mustang and pulled out, heading to the Lima Bean which was only an hour away from his house and Lima. It was dead middle between Westerville and Lima, the ideal place for our coffee dates that seem decades away. Perhaps time passed quicker when you were dead, making things seem lightyears away.

Blaine arrived at the Lima Bean just as Tina did. They waited in line. Tina shifted awkwardly as she stood. She glanced at Blaine hesitantly, watching him as he stood impatiently, tapping his foot against the linoleum.

They ordered their drinks and soon they had sat down. I followed them and listened to their conversation.

"I'm sorry, Tina if I'm stereotyping but... I just have to ask since Kurt's told me you like this kind of stuff but..." Blaine was fumbling with his words, glancing at other people nervously. "...Do you have an Ouija Board?"

Tina's eyes widened. "Uhh..."

"I'm sorry. I hope I'm not stereotyping. You just... I mean with your hair... and Kurt told me that you... "

"No, Blaine, it's okay." Tina sighed. "Can I ask why you want one?"

"You're going to think I'm insane." Blaine took a sip of his medium drip, gulping the hot liquid down.

"Humor me." She placed her head in her palm.

"I think... Kurt's still here." As soon as Blaine said this, Tina sat up straight, looking a bit weirded-out. But who wouldn't? I looked to Blaine who looked rather hurt at her reaction.

"Why, may I ask?"

"I can't explain it... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you to come here. I sound insane. I..." He stood up and Tina reached out to catch his arm.

"No. It's okay. Follow me."

Tina took Blaine's arm and led him to her small, black Civic. Together they climbed into the car. I watched from the back as Tina turned the key into the ignition. Blaine clutched onto his coffee cup with both hands, looking a wee bit unsettled. The radio turned on a some metal band blared electric guitar riffs that made my head want to shatter. Blaine just sat there, unaffected. Normally he would've told Tina to turn it down a knotch, being extrememly polite and very, well, _dapper_. He was oddly silent. Tina reached over and turned down the music, not saying a word. The drive to her house was completely silent. I just stared between the two, wondering if anyone was going to speak. Blaine kept his gaze outside of the car, watching as houses and trees flew by as the car drove smoothly down the road. Tina eventually turned and we were at her house. It was a tall, brick house. It looked completely normal and very all-American. Blaine followed her as she got out of the car and went into the house, not before unlocking the front door. Once inside, Tina led Blaine to her room which was up the stairs and on the right. She shut the door behind them.

"Alright," said Tina. "You want to do this? It can get a little scary."

"Yes. I-I do. I've heard it's a good way to contact..." Blaine's sentence dropped off there. He looked at Tina nervously who was busy pulling something out of her closet. It was a box that read "OUJA" on it. She held it out for Blaine to take. He did and stared at the box. They both sat down on the floor, staring at the box together. Tina took the initiative to open it, unloading the contents and putting them out before them. It was simply a board with a little dial on it.

"Do you think he's here right now?" asked Tina to Blaine who just sort of sat there, staring at the board.

"Maybe..."

"Okay. Kurt," she began. "If you're here, talk with us."

I felt silly, but I needed Blaine to know I was here. I sat down on the other side of the board. She had her hands on the dial. I took mine and moved the dial for her. Her eyes widened and Blaine watched closely now. I went over to the "H". Than the "E".

"Get a piece of paper!" instructed Tina, who didn't move an inch. Blaine stood up and grabbed the first writing utencil and paper he could find. He sat back down.

"He spelled out 'hello'..." Tina's voice was no louder than a whisper. "Kurt... Oh my God. Is it you?"

I drug the dial over the word "yes".

"Tina," growled Blaine. "This better not be a joke."

"It's not! Here! Put your hands here." Tina lifted her hands and let Blaine put his own on the dial. My ghostly fingers could almost touch his. I put my overtop of his. Blaine gasped.

"Kurt, are you here?" he asked me. I brought the dial over "yes" once more. He started to cry. "I'm so happy..." said Blaine softly, stifling back sobs.

_"I am happy too._" I spelled out as Tina wrote.

"I am happy too, he said." Tina looked at Blaine.

"I love you," said Blaine softly. I spelled out _"And I love you. I miss you."_

Blaine was sobbing then. He wiped his eyes. "I love you," I said over and over.

"I heard him," said Tina. "It was weird... like a ghost wisper. He's..." She put a hand over her mouth. She, too, was crying. I was happy that I could get to Blaine, to make him understand that I was here with him like I always said I would be. It was a terrible idea, however, for him to know. Blaine began to turn mad.

* * *

><p>As time passed, Blaine began to mutter to himself more and more. Often times he would talk to himself in public. He was trying to talk to me though I never responded. I couldn't respond. He had to get over this obsession.<p>

He had bought himself an Ouija board. He would try to talk with me, but I refused. I couldn't. He couldn't know I was still here. I watched him in utter agony. He would sit on his bed and rock back and forth, his fingers intwined in his thick, curly locks.

"Why won't you talk to me, Kurt?" he would say. I stood back, watching. No. He couldn't know... he couldn't...

"Please talk to me."

"I love you," I whispered. He began to sob more. Every time I spoke he would begin a new wave of hysterics. I bit my lip. Why did I have to stand here? Why couldn't I get away? I tried to move farther away, but after I passed a certain point, I couldn't move anymore. I was haunting Blaine. There was something of mine that he had that kept me here. He had to get rid of it. I couldn't keep doing this to him.

"Tell me again," he said through sobs. I shook my head. No. I couldn't say it again. I sat by his bedside, listening to him cry himself to sleep. Soon the sobs became less frequent and his breathing slowed. I exhaled. Finally I didn't have to hear him crying.

The same process would happen, but I would never speak to him. One night, however, he stopped.

He was sitting on his bed with a notebook, a pen, and his English textbook turned open to a Slyvia Plath short story. He had been reading that for awhile. I had watched him all evening. He had been taking notes, the words in neat little rows on College Ruled notebook paper. Suddenly, his head rose up, his eyes vacant. He shut the book slowly and grabbed the notebook. He ripped the note sheet out of it and tossed it onto the floor, watching the crumpled up paper solemnly. He just sat there, watching it. I noticed how his expression remained totally vacant, totally lost.

Blaine then turned back to his paper and clicked his pen. He began scribbling something down. I peered over his shoulder:

_Kurt is with me. I have to see him. There's nothing more for me here. He's where I belong now... _

_I love you all, but I love him more._

_Goodbye._

_-Blaine_

No! Not this! I didn't want this to happen. I stood in horror as he walked down through the hallway, passing his parents' bedroom which had sounds of snoring and soft breathing coming from it. He stared down the stairs and made it into the kitchen. A nightlight was turned on. He used that soft light to walk to the silverware drawer. From it he pulled a butcher knife. He stared at the blade. I rushed over towards him and grabbed onto his hand, pulling. It was no use. Why was it no use? I couldn't pull it out of his hand! I was too weak.

"I'll see you soon, Kurt," he said softly, placing the cold, silvery blade to the skin of his arm and hissing as he made a clean cut all the way up his arm. I flicked it out of his hand but it was too late: he was bleeding out.

"NO! BLAINE!"

He fell to the floor. Blood poured from his open wound. His eyes filed with tears and his face drained of color. I fell with him.

"BLAINE!" I shouted. "BLAINE! SOMEONE! HURRY!" I was screaming. He looked at me.

"There... you are..." he murmered, placing a hand against my cheek. "...I... love..."

The light when out of his eyes. I was sobbing then. "No! Blaine! No! I never meant for this! Please!"

* * *

><p>"Kurt?"<p>

I turned around and stood. There he was. He was beautiful. His curly locks fell around his face and over his ears, his honey-almond eyes looked at me with so much intensity. He was dressed in the clothes he was already wearing, but they looked cleaner. I rushed to him and wrapped my around around his neck.

"You... killed yourself, Blaine! How could you do that?" I shouted, sobbing.

"...To be with you. Forever."

I looked at him. He was... _smiling_. For the first time since my death, Blaine was... _smiling_.

"B-but... why?"

"Because I love you. I couldn't live my life without you. This way, I'll always be with you no matter what." His eyes sparkled. I took his hand.

"Ready to go, boys?" said a woman's voice. We both turned to see a woman with short, dark hair and pale green eyes. She looked at us with a soft smile.

"Yeah..."

Together, we took her hand.

THE END.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Guys, I'm so sorry. ^^" This story ended so poorly. I think it's just where I have all of these other Klaine story ideas and I just didn't have the drive to finish this on a non-weird note. **

**If anyone has seen the TV series Supernatural, you would know who the woman is. Can you guess? For those of you who guessed Tessa the Reaper, you win! If not, well, watch Supernatural. Good show up until season 6 where it becomes REDICULOUS. (Sorry season 6 fans. I'm not a fan. ^^") **

**But yeah. I had to add Tessa in there, guys! She's AWESOME. : D **

**And I really do apologize for such a suck ending. :/ Really. Not my best work. Urgh.**

**haha**

**Thank you all for reading this!**


End file.
